Colors
by Kittensbreath
Summary: Niles' thoughts on C.C. and the colors that best represent her. Rated T for implications of the sexual nature.


_Authors note: The line "Yellow is the color of my true love's hair in the morning when we rise" is from Donovan's beautiful song "Colors." If you've never heard it, listen to it NOW. Seriously, you won't regret it. This piece is inspired by Donovan's song, as well as another fanfiction called "Red" by little obsessions that is about Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family (another favorite couple of mine). I obviously don't own Donovan, his song, The Nanny, or it's characters. However, I do desperately wish I owned The Nanny, because I would make every episode center completely around Niles and C.C. with no trace of Fran or Max. Well, Fran is fine, but damn that Maxwell. He's so very simple-minded and I hate that the show revolves around his so-called relationship...anyway. That's enough ranting. Now, on to the story...enjoy!_

**Colors**

_Oh, yellow is the color of my true love's hair_ he thinks.  
>Niles watches the blonde beauty sleeping beside him, twisted in his sheets. Her golden, flaxen locks shine in the morning sun that squeezes in from the gaps in the blinds of his window. <em>In the morning when we rise.<br>_He watches the unwavering rise and fall of her chest; the skin he plants tender kisses on when no one else is around. It is from that chest that the chirping, yellow birds fly out when she laughs. Her deep and sultry snickers are cheerful and bright in his ears, for the sound is only meant for him. Niles lovingly runs a hand though her champagne tresses and sighs. Her ideas are yellow with creativity and jollity. He smiles at the thought.  
>The ever-present bounce in her step and the very air around her all bustle with the vibrancy of yellow.<br>_She is very yellow _he ponders, watching her dream through her golden slumber.

Behind sleeping lids rest her piercing blue eyes, deep and beautiful.  
>When he stares into them, he can feel himself being pulled out to sea with only a small raft and no oars to speak of.<br>_She'll never know what she does to me._  
>So there he sways, ebbing and flowing within the abyss that is her blue eyes. He may lie on his back with his hands folded behind his head to peer into the vast sky of blue. In her eyes, he is surrounded by depths of blue: the ocean, the sky. And he is lost there, forever to drift along in the breath-taking blue of her eyes.<br>Niles moves his hand to rest on the cheek of his blue-eyed beauty. His gentle touch prompts her eyelashes to flutter open and reveal her azure orbs to him._  
><em>He merely smiles down at her.

Red is the color of the luscious lips that smile back at him. The even redder tongue that darts out to lick her lips drives him wild. Their cheeks and skin blush red from their thoughts and actions and words, which are also deemed red.  
>Their phrases of anger, of love are glowing red with the fire and passion that burn beneath the surface of their skin.<br>Her nails are red; the talons that plunge into his back during the night and softly grasp a coffee mug come morning.  
>She places a pale hand on his neck, moving the thumb around in languid circles.<br>These are the same claws that draw blood from his shoulders while she laughs, letting the red phonemes flow freely from her red-painted mouth. Her blood lust for him radiates the color red. She emits her love and hate for him through the color red, and the combination is truly mind-numbing. He loves every taste of her red and flaming passion.

Niles looks down at C.C. and thinks of the color that most represents her. It is the color of her, of everything that she embodies.  
>Her lacy underwear is sheer, but black, as she lounges in his bedroom. The blazers and skirts and blouses that he rips off of her with gusto are black. The shoes that she occasionally leaves on, but mostly shoves deep into his foot when he misbehaves: black. It's the color of her earrings, her bracelets, her lingerie, her hats.<br>He gazes down at her and runs a finger along her collarbone, along her throat, and down between the valley of her breasts.  
><em>She is the color black.<em>  
>It's the color of her humor, dark and dry and sarcastic. The pranks they pull, the banter between them, it is all black.<br>_The spells she casts on me are surely of black magic.  
><em>Her cruelty is black. Her tone is black.  
><em>I render that she wakes up each morning with a multitude of black thoughts filling her head.<em>  
>She is bitter and vengeful and rather inappropriate.<br>_And I love it.  
><em>Black is the color of her cold heart and her mean soul, but Niles wouldn't have it any other way.  
>Black is more certain than grey.<p> 


End file.
